Beyond 'Empty'
by Killing Kathy
Summary: Summary: "With nothing to live for, who are you, really?" Modern AU. It came as a surprise to Rivaille when Eren was hospitalized. 'Suicide Attempt,' they said. "But that's not right.." Rivaille whispered. "Because Eren was happy, wasn't he?" Thirteen tapes. Thirteen chances to see into his heart. "Who are you, really?"
1. Chapter 1

Summary: "With nothing to live for, who are you, really?"

Modern AU. It came as a surprise to Rivaille when Eren was hospitalized. 'Suicide Attempt,' they said. "But that's not right.." Rivaille whispered. "Because Eren was happy, wasn't he?"

Thirteen tapes. Thirteen chances to see into his heart. "Who are you, really?"

Eren was one of those happy go lucky people, one of the people who you would say were always smiling. They were in high school and collage together, and Rivaille remembered the moment clearly. They were pouring over collage essay feedbacks, and Rivaille drew a flat, white envelope out of pocket and said in triumph, "I got accepted at Sina."

Eren blinked at him in surprise, green eyes lighting up. "No way.." He murmured.

"What?" Rivaille had snapped. "Do you doubt my mind?"

"No!" Eren frantically denied, eyes shining. "Because I got accepted there, too!"

At that time, Rivaille had screeched in disbelief-at being stuck with Eren for _four more years_-

But inwardly, he had been ecstatic. Because Eren wouldn't leave, like all the other people in his life.

They were supposed to be going to a movie together, and Rivaille was waiting impatiently in front of Eren's apartment, checking his phone from time to time for the clock.

7:58.

Eren was five minutes late.

What could be taking him so goddamn long?

7:59

Six minutes.

8:00

What is going on?!

Rivaille was about to storm up to the apartment himself and shake Eren-the boy knew that Rivaille never liked to wait-

When his phone buzzed with a text.

**Eren Jaegar **

He growled. "Finally! That brat has to have a good excuse-"

**Rivaille, **

**Thank you for everything. **

"…No way.." Rivaille dropped his phone in horror, barely hearing the crack the plastic made against the cement.

"Eren!" He frantically ran up the stairs, not caring who he knocked into on the way.

"Eren!" The door of his apartment was locked, but-fucking idiot, he had a copy of the key!

With fumbling fingers, Rivaille jerked open the door, stumbling into Eren's all too familiar apartment.

But the stuffed bear that Eren had by his bed seemed to be glaring at him eerily now, instead of the warm and loving image that it presented whenever Eren was there.

_Where was he? That brat-where the fuck- _

The bathroom.

The door wasn't locked.

"Eren!" Rivaille screamed, pushing open the door. A lifeless body looked over at him from the bathtub, and a small smile was offered to him before Eren's head dropped onto his chest, which was barely moving.

Rivaille frantically ran over to him, not caring that his feet were slipping from the mixture of blood and water that was pooling on the bathroom floor.

"Eren Jaegar! Goddamit, look at me!"

A gleaming knife was in Eren's hand, dully reflecting Rivaille's stricken expression. At that time, he didn't even know himself anymore.

"Eren! Please!" Rivaille begged, harshly shaking Eren.

"Eren!"

The boy's body didn't respond, and Rivaille screamed in terror and fear, not even feeling the tears that streaked down his face.

"_Ambulance! Someone! Anyone!" _

He was alone in the apartment, wasn't he?

Rivaille hurriedly ran out of the bathroom, still holding Eren-he didn't trust himself to leave the boy-and one-handed, he fumbled for the phone, in the end, typing out a quick

9-1-1 onto the plastic dailpad.

As the phone rang, the operator picked up, voice sounding smooth and cool.

"Hello, this is 9-1-1. How may I help-"

"Fucking get over here now!" Rivaille screamed, voice breaking. "My friend is _dead! Hurry!" _

The operator didn't say anything, but then a quick-

"We'll be right there, sir." And she hung up.

Rivaille started choking and gasping, curling Eren's body closer to him. "Hey, brat-you won't leave me, right? Ah-no-" Tears were dripping onto Eren's face, blending in with the drying shower water. And as Rivaille looked him over, he found three ugly slits on Eren's wrist, gaping and raw.

Rivaille threw up.

Right there, onto Eren's spotless carpet, and the only thing he found himself thinking over and over in his numb mind-

_His apartment is clean. _

_But Eren's apartment is never clean. _

When the ambulance came, Rivaille was almost reluctant to let go of Eren's body, which he swore-

Had some warmth in it.

Waiting in the hospital room.

Calling Hanji, Irvin, Armin, Mikasa, and the others.

Mikasa was the first to arrive, face cold and stiff. Eren's ex-girlfriend, Rivaille thought dimly.

Armin the next, bawling with Jean at his side. Jean's face was cold as he held the other boy tighter to his body. _That's right. _Rivaille thought unhurriedly. _Marco had died, too.  
_Sasha, Connie, Ymir, and Christa all were next, looking frantic and worried.

Hanji and Irvin came together, looking like they had been out on a dinner date-Hanji was wearing her only dress, after all.

"Is Eren okay? How is he? Rivaille, are you okay?" The woman had frantically asked.

And all Rivaille could think was-

_How could I be? _

Inside that hallway,

Inside that room,

Was Eren's life,

Hanging by a thread.

Being operated on by a group of medical doctors,

Screaming with a voice Rivaille couldn't quite here,

And trashing with a body that Rivaille couldn't quite see.

~X~

After what seemed like eternity-Rivaille dimly heard the doctor say-

"Are you friends of Eren Jaegar?"

And they all nodded, except for Armin, who was still sobbing into Jean's shoulder.

"He's fine."

Rivaille couldn't believe his words. "….What?"

_He thought that Eren would've left. _

_Because honestly, Rivaille had thought of nothing else _

"He's fine." The doctor repeated, smiling. "He was in a critical condition, but he's fine now."

_Eren wasn't going to leave._

_Eren was going to stay with him._

_Eren wouldn't leave him alone. _

_Because he knew that__** he was all that Rivaille had. **_

_Right? _

And to his horror, Rivaille felt a tear dripping down his face again.

He hastily brushed it away, hoping that no one else had seen.  
Mikasa was the first to enter Eren's room, and they all allowed her that small honor. When the rest filed in, Rivaille was the last, hiding behind the tall figures of Hanji and Irvin.

Eren was lying on the bed, face in a tired smile.

Mikasa was holding his hand, and Armin was on his other side, hand on his cheek.

Jean and the rest were clustered around his bedside.

"Thank you…everyone."

Eren's voice was so tired, that Rivaille heard it like a voice of a sixty year old.

"_The boy felt like he carried someone else's own bones in his body,_

_although his body itself _

_was skittish, like a breeze through the blossoming orchard_

_at dawn."* _

"Eren. Are you okay?" Mikasa's voice was rough and quiet.

"Yeah. I'm okay." Eren breathed, head sinking back onto the pillows and smiling at everyone.

And suddenly, out of the blue, Hanji started crying, sinking her head into Irvin's shoulder. "I thought you were going to die, Eren-"

"Hanji." He murmured. "You're wearing your dress."

She brushed a hand across her face, sniffing. "Yeah.."

Eren's eyes searched the room, looking disappointed when something was missing. "Hey…where's Rivaille?"

"Right here, brat." Rivaille wondered how his voice could be that calm. How was it not shaking?

Maybe he was just a good actor.

That must be it.

"Where?"

Hanji and Irvin moved to the side, so that Rivaille could walk to Eren's bedside. There was a moment of respectful silence, and Mikasa and Armin moved away so that Rivaille could be alone.

They all filed out, and Rivaille found himself left alone with Eren.

"You look horrible, brat."

Eren choked out a laugh. "I do?"

"Stop it. Stop it." Rivaille repeated over and over, until he started spluttering.

"Rivaille…" Eren murmured in surprise, reaching out a hand to touch the other.

"Are you crying?"

"…No." Rivaille replied shortly. "It's just allergies, idiot, mine are bad at this time of year."

He and Eren talked about inconsequential things, but they both avoided the-

Blood

Words

Bathroom

Knife

Falling

Death

And most of all,

_Suicide. _

When it was dark and visiting times were over, Rivaille didn't protest as he was lead out of Eren's room, but actually felt relieved.

_He felt like he was talking to a dead person. _

"…I want to talk to you." Irvin murmured, as the rest of the people filed out. Hanji nodded to him, swinging a pair of car keys over her shoulder.

"What?"

"Why would Eren attempt suicide?" His voice was hushed, leading Rivaille to the lobby.

"How could I fucking know?" Rivaille hissed. "I was his _best _friend-and he didn't tell me!"

"Have you noticed how Eren's been changing lately?!" Irvin cried, swinging his head around. "Look me in the eyes, Rivaille-and tell me that he's stayed the exact same!"

"_Sorry, Rivaille-I can't walk with you today-I have to go to the gym."_

_._

"_Eh? Meat? Sorry, I'm on a __**vegetarian **__diet."_

_. _

"_It's okay! I'll be fine, I'm telling you! I __**like **__homework and working!" _

_._

"_Aha, these sleeves are for decoration, so that more girls will notice me~" _

_._

"How could I…" Rivaille bit his lip.

"So…blind…I'm such a-"

Irvin said nothing, just patted his back gently. "it's not your fault, Rivaille. None of us saw it. Eren is a good actor, that's all."

Rivaille didn't let himself cry.

It was as if he had used all of his tears up-

They dried, and he didn't have anymore.

And…

What if everyone could be reborn again?

Would they chose the same fate?

Would they choose the same people who made them laugh-

so happily-

before?

A world filled with only happiness-

that is a fool's dream.

_Would Eren choose him, a thousand times over? _

~X~

_Eren's POV _

Today I got a new sketchbook with an embossed leaf on the cover-

saying-"Nature's Best."

And the inside was so white and _clean_

I was scared to draw in it

to mar the beautiful pages with the unforgiving

mark of a pencil.

Thinking that I wasn't worthy enough,

I didn't deserve

"Nature's Best."

The most beautiful song I've ever heard was sung by a German Choir,

and I remember thinking-

that maybe, German is a beautiful language after all

hidden only under the angry tones

of fighting and ugly

hurtful words.

Vogel im Kaff, it was called.

I'm not sure, but when I used google translate-

it said-

"Word not found."

Maybe it wasn't in German after all.

And the people who tell me-

"Ugly."

"Fat."

"Why do you even live, anyway?

It's not like you deserve it."

_I know. I know that I'm not worth anything_

But sometimes, I actually catch myself in the mirror and think-

**I look nice**

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for thinking that. I'm sorry for hoping,

for believing.

I'm sorry.

And you know that feeling?

When you're in public

frantically searching for the right chord

on a piano song.

Sitting a spotlight undeserved

Playing for people who don't need to hear this

"music"

Like cracking open a egg and accidently mixing the yolk with the white

when you're trying to make a crème cake.

A desperate feeling that's sort of scary

because your brain knows that there's no way out.

_I wish all minds had a delete button._

Throwing myself into learning different languages-

I thought that if I could speak

German, French, Italian-

then I would be exalted.

That somehow,

all of that would change my personality,

Who I was.

Guess we all have a "no refund" tag when we're born.

The type of people who-

**"Belong everywhere, but don't fit in" **

and the type who

**"Don't belong anywhere-but fit in anyway-"**

Which type am I?

A leafed page of the book,

folded over to conceal dirty words.

You know, if you look at a picture long enough,

what you once thought was beautiful will begin to peel and fade

exposing its unperfected innards.

If it's that scary to look at something already "satisfying"

what would it be like to look at something not even close to perfection?

* * *

This is basically my angst contribution to this fandom.

*cries*

I hope you liked reading this-

And if you cried,

Thank you-

For making this piece of work worth everything.

Until next time!

*-Nocturne, by Michael Hettich

K.K

Please Review!


	2. Chapter 2

"…**But you can't look for love,**

**you need to let it find you-**

**your thumb in the air, **

**grinning a mouth full**

**of white teeth, and **

**a heart full of crickets.**

**You need to see it **

**to believe it, **

**But you'll never see it coming." **–Summer, 2005; Tyler Bigney

"_You talk like you know what's best for __**us**__!" _

"_I'm my own person too! Not just a horse for you to drag around!" _

"_You fucking feminist! I'm not treating you like a damn horse!" _

_Rivaille sniffled, and dirt smeared onto the soles of his brand new shoes, but he didn't care anymore. His mum and dad's voices raised, until they were at the point of screaming blindly at each other. _

"_I'll leave!" His dad roared, voice fierce. _

"_Then go!" His mum screeched, nearing a incapable high pitch. _

_Rivaille sobbed, putting his knees to his head. _

_Why did life have to be so hard? _

_Why did everyone have to fight? _

_**Couldn't they just get along? **_

"_Don't go…" He watched through the smudged window as his dad furiously stalked out of the house, throwing a jacket over his shoulder. There was a slamming of the garage door, then a purr of a car, _

_and he was gone. And as Rivaille watched, his mum's mouth trembled for a moment, twisting in a sick triumphant grin,_

_then she sank back onto the worn out couch, sobbing.  
Why did she have to be so weak? _

_Wasn't she supposed to be strong, for him, through everything? _

_**I need to get away from this. **_

_Rivaille shakily got up, not caring that his knees were scraped and raw from the bricks. Dirt was tangled in his hair and his white shirt, but he didn't care anymore. _

_He ran to the park, twisting through the streets, _

_In an alleyway shortcut that only he knew. _

_When he reached there, he was about to run to his secret spot-_

_A little gap between the bushes and benches, _

_And he found someone else there, a boy with bright green eyes. _

"_Hi!" The boy grinned, waving a hand. He was clearly undisturbed by the sight of a dirty, fifteen year old boy, whose eyes were swollen and filthy. _

"…_.Hi." Rivaille choked out in surprise, backing away a little bit-because honestly, what was he supposed to do? _

_He came here to get away from people. _

"_I'm Eren Jaegar!" The boy continued, smiling. _

_How could anyone's eyes be so clear? _

_Not his mother's_

_Not his father's_

_Not even him, who was blessed with his grandfather's eyes, onyx and cold. _

"_I'm…Rivaille." He left his last name out purposely. _

"_It's nice to meet you!" If Eren noticed, he didn't say anything. "Hey," The boy continued. "So I just got this new game at my house, and I was wondering if you wanted to play with me!" _

_What? _

_He has just met this boy three second ago-_

_And he was already inviting him to his house? _

_What was this? _

"_Um.." Rivaille awkwardly said. "Don't you have other friends to play with?" _

_Eren opened his mouth, and looked down. "I have no friends." He admitted. _

"…_Oh." Rivaille didn't know what to say. _

_**He was just like him. **_

"_In that case.." He hesitantly ventured. "I would love to go to your house." _

"_Really?" Eren's eyes were ecstatic. "Let's go!" _

_~X~  
And as Eren grew up, he met two other people-who Rivaille was undeniably jealous of. Armin Arlet, and Mikasa Ackerman. His two best friends. _

_The golden Trio, they were called. Not a Quartet, with Rivaille. A Trio plus the guy named Rivaille who sometimes tagged along. _

_And he couldn't help feeling that Eren was slipping away from him, further and further. _

_~X~_

_His parents were fighting again, and Rivaille wondered-not for the first time, why they wouldn't get divorced. He was seventeen now. _

_One more year, He rashly promised himself. And I get away from this hellhole. _

_Eren lay back with him on the bed, a familiar head threading his hair, ignoring the sounds of argument and curses drifting through the sound-proof door. _

"_Hey, Rivaille." He said. _

"_Hm?" _

"_It's okay to cry sometimes, you know." _

"…_." Rivaille turned to face him. "Crying is only for the weak. The strong survive this world, Eren." _

"_But-" Eren looked like he was about to say something, then closed his mouth, apparently deciding not to. _

_**But crying, ever since you were born, is a sign that you're alive, right? **_

_But later, after Eren left, he lay by himself on his bed, clutched his pillow, which still had a hint of Eren's smell on it, and bawled his eyes out, knowing that no one could hear him. _

_The house screamed with the sound of his pain and desperation _

_And no one was there. _

_Rivaille always kept his emotions to himself. _

_It had always been that way, and he found no other reason to change. _

_~X~_

_Collage came, and they were both accepted to Sina. Armin and Mikasa had ended up going to that collage too, to stay with Eren, they said. _

_And Rivaille couldn't help feeling a twinge of over protectiveness, biting his lip to stop from protesting-_

_That Eren was his, and his alone. _

_Mikasa and Eren started going out, _

_And Rivaille met a sweet girl named Petra. _

_They dated for a awhile, and Rivaille lost his virginity to her, on a cold night which was completely accidental. _

_He didn't dare ask Eren about him and Mikasa, closing his eyes to things that he would rather not see. _

_Maybe that was when he knew that _

_He loved Eren the most. _

_**Eren was blind**__, fearlessly pulling him into clubs to-'live and dance' as he put it, and throwing his hands up with a freedom that Rivaille sinfully envied. . _

_But Eren was by no means a whore or slut. He didn't sleep around or cheat, because he knew how much that would hurt. _

_It had happened to him, after all. _

_But at all the clubs, Rivaille had sat, tight lipped at the counter while girls tried to flirt with him, _

_Eyes only _

_For Eren. _

Rivaille woke up with a start, breathing heavily as he sat up straight in his bed. The mirror by his bedside was crooked, and he instinctively reached to fix it.

His eyes were uneven today; one was more lidded than the other. But crying did that to you, he mused. And out of pure experience, he put a drop of eye solution into the smaller eye, blinking and watching as it slowly opened back to its former size.

It was scary, really. How efficient he was at this.

The shower water was burning cold, but Rivaille liked it, tipping his head back and feeling the icy water run down his throat. After all, compared to Eren's pain,

This was nothing.

He checked his phone-(He had numbly retrieved it when leaving Eren's hospital)-after his shower, toweling his hair.

A new text from Hanji.

**Rivaille!**

**Eren wants me to ask you if you can help go to his classes and pick up his homework for the day.  
He sends his love!**

**Cheers, **

**Hanji. **

….Cheers. Rivaille scoffed, tucking his phone into his blazer pocket. Eren already knew that Rivaille would stop by, regardless-

didn't they share the same classes?

College was a blur to him, the day spinning by without a single excess thought that didn't need to be thought.

He mindlessly raised his hand in every class when the teacher asked if "Eren Jaegar" was here, and Rivaille's reply was always the same-"He's sick. Can I give his work to him?"

Sick.

Because that really was what Eren was, right?

And he left the school with a stack of homework for the boy, groaning about the weight that would be put in his book bag.

"Can I help you with that?" A soft quiet voice appeared by him, and he looked to see Petra, who was smiling.

"….Yeah." Rivaille finally said, shifting half the weight to her.

She held the papers silently as they walked to Rivaille's car, a silver Porsche; the only gift he ever got from his mother.

As he clicked the wireless button for the car to open, Petra shifted slightly from foot to foot. "Listen…Rivaille." She finally said. "I think that our breakup was….a mistake."

He froze and nodded, giving her the signal to go on.

"So..I was wondering if you wanted to get back together." She mumbled, blushing and looking down at her feet.

"Eh? Oh…sure." Rivaille thoughtlessly said, more out of obligation than happiness.

"Um…great!" She smiled, a expression that most guys would consider pretty, but to Rivaille,

all he could think was what he would give just to see Eren's smile once more.

"Here are the papers." She said, holding the stack out to him.

"Thank you." Rivaille said, putting the sheets onto of his book bag in the passenger seat.

He said 'thank you' mainly because it was mandatory,

But he didn't really know the meaning anymore.

"I'll…see you tomorrow?" her voice sounded like a question.

"….Yeah." He breathed, slamming the car door shut and pulling out of the parking lot, not even casting a last look to Petra, who stood there in the empty space, looking defeated.

"Eren!" He called, opening the door to his room, ignoring the way that Eren looked so small among the bed sheets, like he would sink into them at any moment

like an illusion,

and disappear.

"Rivaille." Eren greeted, smiling.

"I've brought your work, brat." He sighed, tossing him the papers-("Hey! Watch out!")

"Thanks, Rivaille." Eren flipped through the huge stack, whistling. "Wow…guess I'll actually have time to do my homework, right?"

"Sure, Sure." Rivaille looked at his watch. "Ymir and Christa want to meet me to go over group work. I'll come later, though."

"Don't worry about me." Eren gave a funny little laugh that sounded more like a scoff. "I'll be fine."

As Rivaille looked at him in disbelief, he finally shrugged and left, casting a lingering look behind him. Eren put on a sharp smile, and Rivaille looked a little relieved, finally closing the door behind him.

The moment he left, Eren's smile fell, and he sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He hated pretending.

He hated hurting people.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Eren was supposed to die, and Rivaille was supposed to forget about him-

Go on with his life, have a _wife_, have _kids_, because that's what normal people did.

And how was Eren supposed to pretend that he wasn't in love with Rivaille even though he was?

So fucking in love with Rivaille that he had almost reached the point of dropping everything he had just if the other man had asked for a cup of water because that's what love was wasn't it?

He dully clicked open his phone and scrolled through his contacts, trying to find someone trustworthy.

**Smith, Irvin. **

_Irvin wouldn't betray him_. Irvin would do what he was told, because he was fervently loyal to his friends.

He pressed the green call button and waited, holding the phone gingerly up to his ear, feeling his scars that he wasn't supposed to feel anymore. "Hello?"

"Irvin, it's me, Eren."

"I have caller ID-how many times do I have to tell you this?" Irvin sounded tired, but somehow, still joking.

"I was wondering," Eren started guilty. "If you could get some things from my apartment for me?"

"…Sure, what do you want?" Irvin's voice sounded gentle.

"Um…there's this sketchbook that I want from my room-It has the words "Nature's best" on it-and bring some clothes-I hate this hospital gown…um…and a bag."

"A bag?" Irvin asked in confusion.

"There's a green bag by the door, by the shoebox." Eren closed his eyes. "It would mean a lot if you brought that bag to me."

"Sure thing, Eren. Do you want anything else?"

Eren almost cried-why were people being so nice to him? Didn't they understand? He didn't _deserve _happiness-

He was a monster, after all.

**A filthy monster. **

"No, that will be fine." His voice sounded plastic, even to his own ears, over layered with a slick coating of happiness. "Thank you, Irvin."

"Anytime, Eren." The man hung up, looking out into the street in his car. He had been riding home from work, so it was perfect timing to get Eren's things, anyway.

When the light flashed green, he pressed the gas and sped down the street, looking for the house he never wanted to see again.

When he reached it, he parked his car on the street, feeding the parking meter a quarter. Thank goodness Hanji had told him to bring change at all time.

And…Irvin fingered the minute box in his pocket. On their dinner date, he was going to propose to her, to ask her to be his wife-

When they had received the call from Rivaille-

Voice breaking.

"_Eren's in the hospital-I think he's dying." _

Rivaille had sounded desperate beyond comprehension, a cold layer in his voice suggesting that he finally gave up, that he just didn't care anymore.

All thoughts of marriage were knocked from his mind as he and Hanji rushed to the car to go to the hospital to support one of their dearest friends.

When he first met Rivaille, he thought that he was the weird strange kid that everyone avoided.

His hair was longer than it was now, Irvin thought. It reached all the way down to his shoulders and gave him a threatening, delinquent look. But his eyes were beautiful-

A smoky gray framed by a sharp silver curtain of eyelashes-

Like the moon,

Upon a cloudy heartless night.

When no one is outside,

For fear of the dark.

The door was unlocked-still open from last night's episode. It was a miracle that no one had stolen anything-but everyone who lived in that apartment adored Eren-

That pregnant lady who would always say Hello

That lonely grandmother who would always give Eren a cup of tea

The mailman and his dog, who would always give him free stamps.

And he shamefully thought

"If Eren wanted to die, then he shouldn't have given Rivaille a extra key."

He opened the door. The apartment was as cold and quiet as it had been before everything, except for a trail of blood leading to the kitchen phone-and even the dial pad was smeared with the liquid, the numbers particularly 9-1-1

A dried pool of vomit was by the kitchen carpet, and Irvin put that as a task to do-

clean everything up for Eren.

Because that was the least he could do for him.

But now, he had other priorities.

Going into his room, he saw the sketchbook on Eren's desk, and picked it up, curiously leafing in it to see what Eren had drawn.

_There was nothing in there_.

Shrugging, he went his closet and selected a few clothes-two with long sleeves, because he wasn't sure if he knew Eren that well anymore.

There was a green bag by the door, just as Eren had said, and he picked it up, jolting in surprise when he heard clacking.

He pried open the bag in curiosity, seeking the source of the noise.

A bag of tapes sat in there, and a masking tape label read the shaky words

**For Rivaille. **

…This is why told him to go to his apartment.

He didn't trust anyone else to not go running to Rivaille, giving him the tapes.

But-

_I'm sorry Eren. _

Rivaille deserved something.

An explanation.

Or he would drive himself mad,

Wondering, searching, _seeking_,

To see if he was the cause of Eren's pain.

The source of all the desperation that Eren had locked up inside him, since when no one knew.

And as he walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind him-he didn't have an extra key-

He bitterly thought how ironic it was that the person Eren trusted to not tell Rivaille

Was the one who was going to betray him, after all.

~X~

_Rivaille's POV_

Before I saw you,

I thought that angels didn't exist.

Before I saw you,

I thought that hope was just a empty word, with a meaning that was ripped out of the dictionary in my mind.

Before I saw you,

I was lost, confused, wandering off the road that everyone at least, seemed to be on,

Seemed to know what a road _was_,

Even if they were on the 'wrong one' as my preschool teacher used to call it but I think I was the only one who raised my hand in class and said-

"Teacher! That doesn't make sense!"

Before I saw you,

Music was just notes on paper,

Something for me to hum and string along on the viola.

Before I saw you, stories were just stories,

And not keys to worlds beyond my fairest imagination.

Before I saw you,

The key to the word "love" was locked

Thrown somewhere on a dirty train track that you fearlessly went on and saw and you brought the key back to me saying with a smile on your smudged face

"Here. I think this is yours."

Before I saw you,

I think I was just living life for the sake of living, just eating for the sake of surviving,

Just studying for the sake of pride,

_Until I met you. _

When I met you,

The world had _color_.

A fierce rouge for sunset and lipstick for women

a dark hue that wasn't exactly "black as night" as they called it

A gleaming, neon green that was the color of the hideous jumpsuit you wore for track just once

When I met you,

The word _myself _had a different meaning, and the broken dictionary that was in my mind fell apart.

When I met you,

I learned the meaning of catching all the Pokémon in the game Pokémon Emerald that I always borrowed, but never returned, but you didn't care, did you?

(Oh look the word Pokémon is in spell-check)

When I met you-

I learned how to write poems-

Mainly because you dragged me to that poetry writing class that you always went to.

When I met you,

I thought, _beautiful_

_Infallible_

_Unbreakable _

**Until the day when you left me**

**Here alone in the dark. **

* * *

Since some people think that this story is like Thirteen Reasons Why-

Actually, I didn't get the idea from that book, but another one that I read inspired me to write this, but ironicly, the story was about an American girl who lived in Japan,

Returning to Massachutes.

It's such a beautiful story-(**The Language Inside**)

And I recommend it to evveerryyyoonnneeeeee who wants a really good read. I almost broke down when I read that book…..*sobs into your shoulder*

But it's a novel in verses, so if you don't like that kind of story…well…your loss, I guess.

But I have read Thirteen Reasons why, and I love it a lot as well.

The tape idea was half my own, actually, but I have to give credit to the book for making me think of it…at first it was going to be a "Eren's Diary" thing, where Rivaille finds Eren's diary, but then I was like-

"…why the fuck would Eren keep a diary?!" So yeah. Tapes. But I'll give credit to Thirteen Reasons why anyway. ^^

You might notice that I'm ending each chapter with a poem of my own-

This is mainly just because I like writing poems,

But because sometimes you need to see into the other characters perspective, to see how they're feeling, I guess. And as the story progresses, you'll see how the poems change.  
Until next time!

K.K

**Disclaimer-Shingeki no Kyojin and Th1rteen R3asons why don't belong to me. **


	3. Chapter 3

"**(And) when you fell, there was rejoicing… **

**Because you had taken their pain, their humiliation with you as you plunged past the world.**

**At the crowd's edge, a bent figure approaches them, **

**With the black cloth of mourning**

**Pulled across the face-**

**Hand extended, **

**Holding out a ringing phone.  
Who would pick it up? Who would answer it?" –The Tower Variations, Number Nine **

**James Armstrong **

"…_Happy birthday, brat." Rivaille holds out the small, rectangular package, looking away awkwardly, and Eren can't help but tease him playfully about the gift. _

"_What is it Rivaille? Are you proposing to me?" _

"_What the hell?!" Rivaille splutters, face a mask of disdain. "Who the fuck would want to propose to you!?" _

_Eren puts on a mock hurt expression, opening his mouth to say something, but Rivaille just shoves the wrapped box in his hands harshly. Eren opens the gift, careful to keep the sharp edges of the wrapping paper neat, just the way Rivaille liked it. _

"…_.No way." A pair of gleaming white ear buds were nestled in the box, and Eren holds them up, lifting them out of the cotton casing as delicately as he would a necklace. _

_This was the pair that he had been staring at longingly as they had passed the electronic store in the mall. _

_Seems like Rivaille knew him better than he thought. _

_Rivaille takes a chance and looks at Eren, only to see the boy's mouth trembling. He finds himself enfolded in a pair of awkward arms, both falling to the soft grass of the park, a tangle of limbs and arms. "Oy! Brat!" _

"_Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Eren cries, holding him even tighter. But contrary to his words, the pair of headphones has been thrown carelessly on the grass beside the opened box, which was spilling cotton, a speck of dirt already staining it's clean white surface that screamed _new_. _

"…_You're welcome." Rivaille mumbles, wrapping his arms around the other boy. And the only thought that passes through his head is-_

_When did Eren grow so tall? _

He still has the earphones. Eren muses, sticking the buds into his ears. They were no where as clean as when Rivaille had first bought them, but they were still white, nevertheless.

One ear bud is louder than the other, and now Eren has the money to buy as many earphones as he wants, but he keeps this pair anyway.

_And no matter how much I tilt my head…_Eren muses. _The sound is still unbalanced. _

And through the dim of his music, he can still hear every sound acutely, the gentle clink of the silverware on his untouched hospital tray,

The gentle whoosh of curtains and wind as the leaves of fall are shed,

And the creaking of the unoiled door hinges from across his room which surely would've driven Rivaille mad.

Rivaille. Even now, he couldn't stop thinking about him. Eren listlessly picked at his scars, feeling the rough bumps underneath.

_How easy it would be. To tear them open, stay silent, and no one would know. _

_It would be so easy. _

Eren takes a deep breath, and starts unwinding his bandages, when the nurse comes in with an empty tray, looking surprised at his untouched food.

_But this world seems to be desperate in keeping me here. _

_Or is it just me? _

_I gave Rivaille a key. _

_And I timed this moment perfectly to noon. _

_What's wrong with me? _

_To die- _

_And leave all the inhabitations and responsibilities of this world-_

_Why can't I do it? _

_All I have to do is close my eyes and take a few steps forward. _

_Why can't I do that? _

_**Why is living…such a scary thing to do? **_

~X~

When Irvin came to his apartment, Rivaille was gone, so the man waited, sitting by the plaster, cracking wall, which he amused himself with, fingering different shapes and pretending they were animals, exotic creatures, and everything he had held in his imagination in his non-creative adult life.

His phone buzzed with a call.

**Rivaille **

He smiled to himself and clicked the green Answer button. "Yes?"

"_I see you there, you know." _Rivaille's voice was tired, but still retaining its sharp quality somehow.

Irvin peered out over the balcony rim, and sure enough, he could see a small figure glaring up at him, cell phone to his ear. "So you do." He said in amusement.

"_..Irvin. You are a grown man, with a successful job-as a lawyer, may I add. Why the hell are you here at some shitty college student's apartment?" _

"…So you're cursing yourself now?"

"Basically, yeah." Rivaille's voice was right by him now, and Irvin looked up to see him there, raising an eyebrow. "Well, are you going to stay here forever? Come in."

Rivaille unlocked the door, and Irvin couldn't help asking-

"Do you give the key to anyone in your apartment?"

There was a beat of a thick, heavy silence, and Irvin was about to take that question back, when-

"…No." Rivaille finally said, turning the oiled doorknob with a finality. "I don't."

"Oh." The two men walked into the apartment, and Rivaille gestured for him to sit at the low table, walking into the kitchen. "I'll make some tea."

"Right." Irvin stayed kneeling by the table even when he heard the bubbling sounds of boiling water and a soft curse from Rivaille as the tea leaves spilled everywhere.

He didn't offer to help, because he knew that Rivaille wouldn't accept it.

Rivaille was always alone.

"Tea's ready." Rivaille sighed, bringing a wooden tray with two steaming cups on it. Irvin took his gingerly by the rim, admiring the dull emerald green. "Where did you get these, Rivaille?"

"..I went to France for an art trip once, and found these at an antique store." Rivaille sighed, turning his around himself. "Actually, Eren has a matching pair-his are blue."

"I see." Irvin ran his fingers over the carved spiral symbols.

The kanji for _Katsu _was printed clearly on the bowl. "Does Eren's say something else?" Irvin asked Rivaille, curious despite himself.

Rivaille, who'd taken the first sip of his tea, shrugged. "I think his says_ Chikara_."

_Katsu. _Victory.

_Chikara. _Strength.

"How come you're not sure?"

"..The last time we used those cups were a month ago." Rivaille said shortly, hiding his mouth beneath the china rim. "I don't know anymore."

And as Irvin looked around the apartment, he couldn't help thinking how it looked so similar to Eren's. And there were more and more things from Eren's apartment lying around in Rivaille house than he thought he had himself. Rivaille noticed him looking around and sighed. "He started staying over at my place more, you know. Before…that."

Irvin just nodded, sipping his tea and ignoring the hot liquid that slid down his throat, tearing his eyes up. "And he would always be crying before he went to sleep." Rivaille closed his eyes, sinking himself back in memories.

"But I was an idiot. I did nothing. I didn't do anything worth a damn. I didn't give a single fuck. …I think that Eren thought I gave up on him, or something. Shit!" He slammed his cup against the table, fingers curling around the word _Katsu. _

"It was all my fault! All my damn fault!" And Irvin just lets Rivaille sit for awhile, swallowed in his own thoughts, while his eyes wander to a note pinned on the fridge.

_Rivaille, _

_I'm off to go shopping. _

_-Eren_

_._

_Rivaille, _

_Thanks for lending me money! I'll pay you back,_

_Promise!  
-Eren_

_._

_Rivaille, _

_I'm going back to my apartment now! _

_Thank you!_

_**Itte Kimasu, **_

_-Eren _

.

Itte Kimasu, Irvin murmurs. _I'll go and return. _Return. A word that promised so many things.

"…We were both learning Japan at school." Rivaille admits. "It was more of a slack off course than anything, but it was fun.

Even though Rivaille was more advanced, more expierenced than Eren,

One time,

They were both sleeping over at Rivaille's house, and Rivaille had leaned over, once he was certain that Eren was asleep, and had whispered, _"Itsuka kokutte ageyo na ka-" _

**One day I might tell you I love you. **

_If Eren had heard, what would he have done? _

It wasn't like those movies, where the other hears the most important confession at the most important moment.

Like in the goose girl

When she was weeping by the fireplace

If the king had not heard,

What would she have done then?

Would she have died, if the king had not passed?

_And if Eren had never met him, would he have been fine? _

"..He used to always make me pay at least half of his phone bill." Rivaille blows some excess steam off his cup. "And I always would."

"And..?" Irvin gently nudges Rivaille on.

"But his phone bills grew lower, and lower, until Eren could finally pay for himself." Rivaille shrugged, eyes lowering, and Irvin swore that the flash of silver that he always saw was gone now.

"I didn't notice, either."

"…Rivaille." Irvin whispers, thoughtlessly reaching out a hand to Rivaille's arm, but Rivaille slaps it away, looking down. "..I'm sorry."

"I know you are."

"..here." Irvin pulls the clanking bag of tapes, nestled in the plastic **Kroger **bag.

"..You got me something from Kroger?"

"No, it's…Eren's."

Rivaille fingered the words-_For Rivaille _on the crinkled, rumpled, bag, and pulls out a tape. The number that is hastily stuck on there with masking tape says

_8 _

and he knows that he has to listen to them in order,

one

by

one .

Irvin leaves, closing the door softly behind him, but Rivaille doesn't notice.

He numbly walks over to the stereo, sticking the first tape in the gleaming slot that he has never used.

And the voice of someone he thought he would never hear again fills the room.

"_Living. _

_The dictionary defines it as merely-the opposite of death. _

_But is that all it is?" _

And Rivaille sits there, clutching his china cup, the _Katsu _kanji trembling, and he tries to hit the pause button but misses, and he folds over on the carpet, pounding the velvet with his fists, spilling the dark tea and making a hideous stain on the once-clean fabric, as Eren's calm voice echoes around and around the room, and in his head.

Because-the fact just hit him now.  
_He was going to find out why Eren tried to kill himself. _

_**And Rivaille wasn't sure if he wanted to know. **_

~X~

_Eren's POV_

I wonder when it happened.

When my mother started looking more surprised at the good things that I did,

Than the bad.

I wonder when I started being someone else,

Other than myself,

Even though I had been warned against things like this,

Ever since kindergarten.

The cold threads of spun sugar glass lay on my tongue,

But somehow, they refuse to melt

Staying there,

Holding down,

So I can't taste anything except for the bitter sweetness anymore.

The poems that I've read, so many times _before_,

Don't matter _now, _

And I find myself slamming the book shut,

Going into the bathroom,

And screaming,

Clawing at my face in the mirror,

Watching those hideous eyes that I know as my own

Stare back at me.

If you define crying,

It is only the act of liquid water, mixed with salt,

Leaking out of your eyes,

Called something like

_Tears. _

It is the same as sweat,

Something that is labeled as the result of H-A-R-D W-O-R-K

Tears, something labeled as S-A-D-N-E-S-S

But godamn it, I don't want to feel anymore.

If you think about it.

So why is crying so dramatic, after all?

In those romance novels

In those stereotypical action movies

Why?

This world doesn't need me.

There is an empty cage,

I concluded without a tint of regret.

Waiting for me in the afterlife.

For I, and no one else.

If everyone fits together like a puzzle,

maybe I'm a piece on the edge,

with a jagged, broken corner.

No piece would fit,

even if forcibly bent.

I am a monster.

I am the villain.

I am the source of all the unhappiness that lays within _myself_,

Because people say that _you _are the one who knows _yourself _best-

But-

It seems like even a leaf knows me better now.

Who am I?

A person.

What am I?

A monster.

How am I feeling?

….._I don't know. _

The fact that no matter how long my fingers were;

How much I grew;

How much I learned;

How much I matured-

The fact

that I could still not reach or touch you

or your **standard**;

I could do nothing

but slump to the floor,

Admit painful defeat-

And cry.

~X~

_Rivaille's POV _

Since I don't know if we'll ever meet again-

I guess

that we'll try to stay together

forever.

"I'll tell you someday."

Laughing and sticking your tongue out,

teasing me,

you were the most beautiful then.

But-

When is that someday?

A link in the far distant future;

without any promise

or solidity.

Your back is growing fainter,

more distant,

vaguer,

quieter,

it's almost transparent now.

.

The Villain-

**was me. **

The one who ran away-

**was me. **

It was no lie,

**For I am**

**the true deceiver.**

And

I say to the plaster

peeling wall-

"I'm Sorry."

_Uselessly,_

_Meaninglessly, _

_inutility, _

I just sit there

in a wooden, peeling

chair;

Wondering.

The Characters that I wrote then-

They don't dance for me anymore.

"Is that so?"

The poems that I scribbled-

on a napkin at a fast food restaurant,

Where are they now?

"Who knows?"

My memories and limits-

Are they gone?

"Why don't you figure out yourself?

**Isn't the person, **

**who knows you best-**

**yourself?" **

_**I'm sorry-**_

_My light was gone. _

_**I'm Sorry-**_

_My head wasn't thinking straight. _

_**I'm Sorry-**_

_**I let go. **_

What kind of excuses are these?

For being a coward,

For being a shallow person

who didn't see the world-

Sorry doesn't even take up half of it.

The beginning of the end,

tell me,

when does that time come?

The promise that our naive selves made together

"Forever, Eternally,"

You believed in those words.

For crushing your morals,

For mocking them,

For taking away your innocence-

"Forgive me."

* * *

I'm not going to say much in this author's note... but..thank you to all that read and review this story-

your comments and thoughts make me so happy QAQ

Thank you all!

K.K


	4. Chapter 4

"**Out of nowhere**

**I'm going to hang myself now**

**To this hopeless world**

**I'd like to say goodbye ASAP**

**But you know what's strange?**

**I couldn't find a rope to hang myself**

**What a wonderful life**

**What a wonderful life**

**Since there was no rope to hang myself**

**I'm still alive" –Suicide Melody **

"_Rivaille!" Eren shrieks in delight. "Look! The ocean!" _

"_What's so good about it?" Rivaille muttered, looking displeased. "Salt and water. That's it. Hell, I could even make a fucking ocean in a cooking pot." _

"_You don't get it!" Eren said, eyes sparkling. "The ocean! The thing that all rivers and lakes flow into! The link of all the waterways-in this whole universe!" _

"_Not universe, but earth." Rivaille sighed, opening the book that he brought, just for this occasion. They were taking a short trip to the ocean, as a celebratory vacation for getting in the same college. Although why they would want to spend any more time together, Rivaille had reprimand Eren-he didn't know. _

_Eren took off his shirt, and Rivaille slyly peeked over the rim of his book as the white fabric reveled a muscled stomach-and-_

"_Like what you see?" Eren teased him, sticking his tongue out. _

"_What?!" Rivaille asked in disbelief. "You're asking me that? No, brat. I don't." _

_Eren made a mocking face at him, then grinning suddenly, grabbed his arm, threw his book away, and lifted him up in his arms. "Hey! Oy! Brat! Let go!" _

_Eren only laughed and happily ran into the ocean, tossing Rivaille in, clothes and all. Rivaille resurfaced, spluttering in indignation. "You-You-" _

_Eren snorted in laughter, doubling over. Rivaille gritted his teeth and fished around in the water for a bit, then threw a whole clump of seaweed at the grinning boy. The leaves landed on his head and spread around his face, making him look like he had a wig. Rivaille allowed himself a small smirk as Eren's face turned horrified. _

"_..Oh, you wanna go? Let's go!" Eren ripped the 'wig' off his head, chortling with laughter. "Who knew that Rivaille could have fun?"_

Rivaille lay on his back in his now dim living room, gazing at the moon that shone through his clear window.

"…_Life." _Eren's voice murmured, crackling. _"So many definitions, right? But-" _His voice broke. _"Not enough." _

Rivaille closed his eyes, feeling a dry sting somewhere among the dark craven.  
_"I don't think I ever told you-but I was bullied back in middle and high school. Called a monster-actually. And after awhile, it seemed like I was the only one who thought that I wasn't. Except for you, Mikasa, and Armin, that is." _His voice took on a shaking quality.

"_Don't think that the reason is you, Rivaille. Don't blame yourself. Please. It's not you. I'm a fucked up kid, that's true for sure. It's all me. I know that everyone says that, but it's true, actually. My decision, my words." _Eren took a deep breath. _"I just wanted you to know that, really." _

Rivaille reached out a shaking hand to the dark ceiling, feeling the stretch in his arm muscles. "…What good will that do?"

"_I don't even remember why I was called that anymore-it's strange and stupid now that you think about it, really. But little by little-I felt like I was losing __**myself**__, you know? Like 'Eren Jaegar didn't exist anymore-but someone else, wearing my skin, holding my bones together with muscles and tendons." _

"..That's disgusting, brat." Rivaille muttered, feeling the gentle thump as his hand fell back by his body.

"_So, is the first tape." _There was a small laugh. _"God, it sounds like I'm preplanning this, aren't I?" _

"You are preplanning this." Rivaille hissed. "You planned everything so fucking _perfectly_, it makes me sick."

"_Rivaille, I'm scared of dying." _Eren admitted, voice cracking._ "But you know what's even worse than dying? Disappearing. My father disappeared soon after we went to senior high. I never told you, though. Remember? Every time you came to my house, you would ask-'where's your dad?' because you were fascinated by his scientific engineering, right? And remember? Each time I would hastily change the topic. I wonder if you noticed." _

"…I didn't." Rivaille sighed. "I didn't, did I?"

"_He's not dead." _Eren's voice sounded desperate. _"He's not dead. But even worse is the fact that he left us. Left mom, left me. And every day, without fail-I wonder why. We were the perfect family. Perfect, Rivaille. Mother would make every meal-and every meal would be perfect-father would come home early to bring me pointless treats-and I treasured every one of them." _There was a sniffing sound. _"I couldn't bear to remember him-not anymore. Because I think I thought-deep somewhere, that it was my fault that dad left, my fault that he never came back. I was an evil person. Every night, mum would cry. Cry in the dark, tears that she thought I wouldn't hear, clutching what was left of his jacket-But I hear her sobbing-and I would think-it's my fault. If I weren't here, father wouldn't have left. Mum wouldn't be crying now. My fault. I shouldn't exists. The people were right. I am a monster, I guess." _

The tape ended, and even though the sound of Eren's voice-so broken and tired-was gone, replaced by the familiar hum of worn tapes-the echo of words and promises to come still echoed in Rivaille's head, and he turned over on his stomach, curling himself into a ball.

_One tape over. Twelve more to go. _

**Next Day **

~X~

Rivaille sat by Eren's bed, flipping through the well-creased pages of his history textbook. Eren gnawed on the end of a pencil, frowning at his mound of homework. "Rivaille? Can you help me?"

Rivaille glanced over at him, then finally dog-eared the page of his book, shutting it closed with a sigh. "Sure, what?"

As Eren asked him about the puzzling concept of college humanities, Rivaille patiently explained it, tapping the sharp end of the pencil against the printed words.

_Ring….Ring… _Rivaille's phone rang shrilly, but he made no move to answer it, continuing instead to help Eren.

"…Aren't you going to answer it?" Eren asked him in surprise.

"..No." Rivaille said shortly. "Now, here we see that-"

_Ring…Ring…_The phone started ringing again.

"Rivaille. It might be an emergency." Eren said, brows furrowing.

"Trust me, it's not." Rivaille sighed. "Go on with your homework. So, now that I've explained this-"

_Ring…Ring…_

"Rivaille! Answer it!" Eren growled. "It's driving me mad!"

"Why?" Rivaille harshly replied. "I know who it is, anyway!"

_Ring...Ring…_

The phone's shrill ring kept on sounding and sounding again, and once again Rivaille found himself on the losing side of a staring contest. Sighing, he flipped the phone open. "Hello?" He murmured, turning away from Eren, but the boy could hear every word.

"_Why didn't you answer the first time?" _A voice cried. _"I was worried!" _

Rivaille rubbed his forehead, and voice laced with weariness-"I was busy, Petra."

_Petra? Why-_

"…_I was going to ask if you wanted to meet up for dinner." _The girl's voice was withdrawn. _"After all…we might as well go out now, right?" _

Go out? Eren thought in disbelief. "What-"

"Petra." Rivaille patiently started saying, then looked at Eren's face and stopped. Eren wasn't sure what kind of expression he was making, but it must've not been pleased, because Rivaille's face suddenly got a funny spasm and he turned back to his phone. "I'm taking Eren out to eat sushi. A celebratory event. _Since, you know. He got out of the hospital and all._"

Out to dinner? What?

"…_Oh." _Petra's voice held an edge of disappointment. _"..Next time, then?" _

"..Yeah." Rivaille agreed, closing his eyes. "I have to go now."

"_Bye. Love you." _

"…" Rivaille opened his mouth, then closed it. "…Love you too." He breathed, shutting his phone with a finality.

More than anything, Eren wanted to ask-_Why Petra? Are you going out again? _

_Why did you tell her you loved her? _

_Do you? _

But what came out of his mouth instead was a forced chuckle. "…So, you're taking me out?"

"Hm?" Rivaille looked at him, a wry grin twisting the edge of his lips. "We're breaking you out of the hospital. Unless, of course…" He looked away. "You don't want to."

"Are you kidding?" Eren cried.

Rivaille looked down. "It's okay, you don't have to-"

Eren reached over and hugged him tightly. "Yes! Yes!"

And after a moment, when the boy still didn't let go, all Rivaille could do was awkwardly wrap his arms around Eren, wondering-

_How did I not notice? _

He could literally feel every bone in his body. And as he looked over the boy, he noticed a speck of dust on his ear, and he reached a hand in irritation to brush it away, when Eren froze suddenly. "…" Rivaille hastily pulled the hand back. "..Let's go brat." He mumbled, looking away.

"Y-yeah." Eren grinned, ruffling a hand through Rivaille's hair fondly-("Hey!)

Moments later, Eren was bundled in Rivaille's sweater-which was olive green and had an emblem of crossed wings on it-and was walking nochantly through the hospital hallways. Rivaille had a hand on his wrist, pulling him forward every now and then when Eren lagged.

"What happened to you?" Eren laughed. "The Rivaille who would always follow the rules?"

"…" Rivaille didn't reply, and Eren's smile crumpled.

_I'm sorry, Rivaille. _

_You shouldn't do this to yourself. _

_It's all my fault, isn't it? _

_I'm sorry. _

_I fucked up, didn't I? _

Rivaille opened the doors, breathing in the cold air. "Success, no?"

Eren snorted. "That was too easy. None of the nurses even noticed me."

Rivaille scoffed and pulled his scarf tighter around himself. "It's still partly my genius."

"Sure, sure." Eren laughed, placating him. He shivered-the outside was freezing. Rivaille noticed the tiny spasm of movement and unwrapped his scarf, winding the heavy fabric gently around Eren's neck. "Rivaille?"

"You're cold, brat."

"But what about-"

"I'll be fine." Rivaille harshly said, looking away. "I'll be fine." He repeated, tone softer.

But Eren wrapped his hand around the others tightly, gripping the spot of warmth through the screaming wind and cold.

Rivaille breaths out softly, breath making a soft cloud.

And Eren stares, because the faint curve of his lips is stunning the half-shadow of the overhanging doorway.

He misses being able to fling his arms around Rivaille's slim waist and pretend that it was all for nothing.

Fifty percent fantasy, he thinks. Thirty percent looks, twenty percent lust, and five percent love. One hundred and Five percent a perfect, fucked up fantasy.

_Hey Rivaille, don't you know?_

~X~

Armin's POV

I wanted to believe.

Thinking that everything that I doubted was for the sake of my useless, worrying mind-

Even though I had a feeling-

That those beautiful days would end-

Decorated with the soft sprinkles of everlasting snow-

Topped with a little light happiness,

I thought and wished that those days would go on forever.

I wanted to think that you were being truthful,

To have no doubt for you-

Even though I had a feeling that you were going to leave me.

Flying into the dark abyss, eyes closed just like a fool's

The soft sound of sighs pass me

And I can do nothing but try to touch them

The bitterness of coffee is too cruel

For my taste buds,

And I always have to add spoonfuls of sugar, upon sugar,

While you look on, laughing.

Those broken shards of glass falling

I am ashamed to say that too scared for _myself_,

I didn't pick them up,

Didn't rebuild them into what it was rewinded

Running together, the earbuds in my ear kept falling off until you

Told me that it would be easier

To get headphones instead.

Going to store together,

And shopping

Those times were meant to go on forever, really.

That time in winter

Where we lay together in front of the fireplace

Silent, together

I remember thinking-

_If this is all, it's enough. _

When you, with nothing but a sad look

Fell off the cliff of sanity

I could do nothing but cry.

Cry useless tears

To bring back the past that would never come back.

_Why am I so alone? _

How did I not know?

The screams that those silent eyes held-the little spark of pleading and worry in those conflicted pupils-

How did I, so good at reading people, not read you?

It is as if the radio station changed,

Into a different FM, not available in this country.

Why can't I tune in?

Why are your screams silent?

Is the mute button on?

_If so, where is the volume control? _

~X~  
Eren's POV

I've only written poems about love.

Most of them-

filled with angst, overflowing

not unlike

a flooded river,

maybe the Nile

in spring.

writing a poem without inspiration is like

trying to describe a chocolate éclair

without taste buds.

Maybe that's why

this is so hard to write.

But I had pleaded for another wish,

on a birthday candle, one day in May

Blowing the little flame out,

I rode my hopes on that little spark,

making sure that there were no embers left in the ashes.

Maybe I missed one,

I'm not sure-

because that wish still hadn't come true, to today.

The voice of an acoustic guitar strums into my ear

my only comfort

against this dismal highway.

Someone once told me

"Tears taste like the ocean"

that same person wiped away those tears, brusquely saying,

"Don't cry. I don't want you falling asleep tomorrow."

I held that as an act of kindness,

one of the few close to my heart.

The taste of coffee is too damn bitter.

Yet I crave it,

holding its warmth against my hands

and blowing the excess steam off.

Starbucks, in winter.

When flipping through paintings of angles and demons, I wondered

do angles really have halos?

do devils really have horns?

Who created the idea of supernatural creatures, at all?

"Superstitious freak" I mutter, slamming the book shut

and getting up to get another book

called

Lord of the Flies

The blinking cursor and the white screen that's staring at me right now

4:45 a.m in the morning

I couldn't sleep.

So I check my email-

it says

You have no messages.

_For some strange reason, that's always the time when I feel the most alone._

* * *

Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

**"Despite what you've read, your sadness is not beautiful. No one will see you**

**in the bookstore, curled up with your Bukowski, and want to save you. **

**Stop waiting**

**for a salvation that will not come from the grey-eyed boy looking for an annotated copy of Shakespeare,**

**for an end to your sadness in Keats.**

**He coughed up his lungs at 25, and flowery words cannot conceal a life barely lived. **

**Your life is fragile, just beginning, teetering on the violent edge of the world. **

**Your sadness will bury you alive, and you are the only one who can shovel your way out with hardened hands and ragged fingernails, bleeding your despair into the unforgiving earth.**

**Darling, you see, no heroes are coming for you. Grab your sword, and don your own armor." **

**-(via starredsoul) **

Amidst the bustle and dim of the sushi cuisine, Rivaille sat quietly, watching Eren talk animatedly, waving his hands around. "So then, I told the history teacher what I thought-"

"That's great, brat." Rivaille groaned-he was too tired to even _comprehend _what Eren was thinking. Seeing a bowl of wasabi pass by, he took a small portion of it, wrapping his chopsticks around a piece of sushi and swirling it in the wasabi languidly.

Eren eyed him as he chewed on the piece, a hint of _something _in his eyes that Rivaille couldn't define.

"Oy, are you hungry? Eat." Rivaille ordered, narrowing his eyes. Eren, startled, hastily broke his chopsticks apart-he hadn't even eaten a single piece yet. And as Rivaille watched him, he noticed some tiny, little things that he hadn't seen before. The way that Eren carefully dipped the exact same amount of soy sauce on each sushi-the way his bite sizes were smaller when he ate the octopus salad-the way that he picked out the fish out of each piece of food.

"Eren." The boy turned to look at him, and Rivaille stuffed a piece of sushi in his mouth.

"Mmph!" Eren protested, but Rivaille merely scowled and clamped a hand over his mouth, making him swallow it.

"Hot hot hot hot hot!" Eren wailed, grabbing his glass of water and chugging it down, groaning in relief as the spicy wasabi flavor was quenched.  
"What was that for?" He whined. "I was eating, right?"

Rivaille smirked. "Just wanted you to try wasabi."  
"Hey! Evil!" Contrary to his words, Eren laughed and nudged Rivaille. "Hey, hey, you want to go to the park after this?"

"Sure, why not?" Rivaille yawned, standing up. "I'm full anyway."

Eren hastily followed him, stumbling slightly.

"Thank you! Come again!" The call of the serving man followed him.

Pushing open the glass doors of the cuisine, the smell of fish and spice was quickly replaced with burning cold, and Rivaille couldn't suppress a shiver.

"Here." Eren said softly, holding him close.  
"Oy." Rivaille grumbled, making half-hearted efforts to get away.  
"You're cold, aren't you?"

"No." Rivaille stubbornly denied, looking away. Eren laughed softly, and Rivaille could see a small smile on his face. "Let's cross the street now, shall we?"

The red hand on the crossing road flashed, turning green. Eren walked across with Rivaille, holding the other man close to his chest. "Snow." Rivaille said simply.

Eren looked up. Sure enough, white flakes were falling, spinning and twirling around them. "…Yeah." He smiled-the expression half sadness, half hopeful despair.

The park was deserted when they got there, snow still falling around and around. Eren huddled closer to Rivaille unconsciously, and they walked through the deserted sidewalk, cutting patterns and delicate lace in the snow that they walked through. Even though Eren tried his best-

_There was no way to not make a footprint. He really was alive, wasn't he? _

"Look, brat. A basketball court." Sure enough, two metal hoops faced each other, snow already powdering the steel rim. Eren spotted the rental basketballs by the court and ran quickly to them, bringing two back-one for Rivaille, one for him. Rivaille had been in the basketball team in high school, right?

Rivaille hesitantly took the ball, dribbling it a few times to get the feel. Eren just went for it and shot; the ball bounced off the backboard, arching.

Rivaille missed the first shot he took-then the second, and third, and fourth-

Eren eventually got his feet back under him and got into a regular pattern, the orange ball flinging through the mesh, but Rivaille kept on missing, over and over and over again-

And Eren didn't ask why.

The familiar _ting _of the basketball hitting rims but never going _in _soon echoed around the empty space, while Eren had stopped trying altogether and sat on the edge of the court, watching Rivaille.

A slender body, thin and lithe fingers, lean legs reaching and jumping-it was picturesque.

Rivaille soon noticed Eren's attention and stopped, panting slightly.

Eren smiled, but Rivaille didn't smile back, looking disturbingly sober.

Suddenly, Rivaille's phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the thick mood.

**Hanji, Zoe**

"Hello?" Rivaille sighed.

"_Rivaille! I can't find Eren!" _Hanji wailed. _"I've been looking everywhere for him, the hospital is frantic, Mikasa's called his cell forty five times but he left it in the hospital, I told Petra-" _

"What?!"

"_She was wondering where you were, and I told her that Eren was missing, so she hung up suddenly." _

"….Screw the lord." Rivaille cursed, scuffing the snow with his boots.

"_Aren't you more worried, Rivaille? Eren's __**missing**__." _

Rivaille glanced sideways at Eren, who was kicking up flurries of loose snow, watching them drift down softly. "He's here with me." He reluctantly said.

"…_Rivaille. I should've known, all along." _There was a light chuckle in her voice as she called to someone else-_"Hey, Irvin! Eren's with Rivaille! I told you that I would be right!" _

A voice told her to give the phone to him, and Rivaille impatiently waited for the transition.

"_Rivaille. Are you okay?" _

"Irvin, I'm fine." Rivaille rubbed his temples in irritation. "Why do you keep asking me that?"

"_Well.." _

"Don't worry. It's nothing." _Nothing at all. _

"_Anyway, Mikasa's coming over to pick Eren up in a few minutes-to clean up this hospital mess. Where are you?" _

"Central park."

"…_.Rivaille." _Irvin's voice was disapproving. _"You didn't-" _

"No." Rivaille shook his head, even though Irvin couldn't see him. "I didn't."

"…_Oh." _Irvin's voice paused, and there was only static.

"Goodbye, Irvin." Rivaille hung up dully, walking back to where Eren was and extending a hand to help the boy up. "Come on, Eren. Mikasa's coming in a minute to sort out this hospital mess."

"…I won't have to go back there, do I?"

"No, I don't think so." Rivaille sighed, face burrowing even deeper in the thin scarf that he had. "After all, you're healthy enough to walk around, right?"

Eren frowned and didn't reply. "Your scarf is really thin."

Rivaille rolled his eyes. "It's what women find 'fashionable' these days,"

"That's no excuse!" Eren protested. "Do you have _one _decent scarf? And no, thin ones don't count." He added as Rivaille opened his mouth. The other glared at him. "I'm a poor college student, brat. I can't afford to buy scarves and whatnot."

"But-"

A flashing pair of lights came up by them, and Mikasa waved from the drivers seat, face serious. Eren sighed. "Well, I better-"

"Yeah, yeah." Rivaille waved a hand idly. Eren looked like he was about to say something else, but instead spun on his heel and opened the passenger door of the car, closing the black door with a finality. The car sped off and Rivaille was left all alone, shivering and tired.

He walked back to the basket and kept on shooting and shooting.

_He made every single one. _

~X~

The next day, there was a wrapped package at the door of his apartment-A sleek cashmere scarf, dyed in a soft gray hue.

A note came with it-

_Rivaille. I thought red would've been better, but this one matches your eyes. _

Rivaille couldn't help smiling slightly. "Idiot." _His eyes were black, weren't they? _

He noticed that Eren didn't return his jacket, but said nothing about it, turning around to go inside. Unknown to him, Eren was standing on the street below, wearing that jacket, smiling sadly as he saw Rivaille go back inside.

_Is there anything I can do to pass your standard? _

Rivaille was too scared to press play. The second tape was inserted in the stereo, fingers already reaching halfway through to the button. But there was just _something _about Eren talking like he was already dead, as if that would make everything final-as if the Eren that was alive right now was just a figment of his imagination but maybe he was in a coma so that was fine right because Eren would be there when he woke up right?

_No. _

Rivaille pressed the button harshly.

"…" A moment of silence.

"_Rain." _Eren's wondering voice echoed. _"It's the source of all things living, yeah?" _

"Get on with it." Rivaille placed his head in his hands, bowing down.

"_No matter what kind-Raining Water, Raining fire, Raining snow, Raining blood-it's all the same, isn't it? A release point." _

Rivaille kept reminding himself-breathe breathe breathe breathe breathe

"_A release. That was what I was going for, I think. Tight, trapped," _Eren's voice trailed off. _"Cattle in society. Labels, everywhere. Graded based on looks, eyes, ears, nose-I was one of them. A filthy hypocrite, that's it." _

"_I wasn't all that pure myself, you know? After awhile-after being called a monster, called a hideous abnormal-I started thinking that myself, thinking that I was a monster-deserved to be chained up-and I started getting into fights. Bullying other people. I was a monster, Rivaille." _His voice broke. _"Taking on people smaller than I was-and the scary part was-it felt __**good**__. To know that I wasn't the weakest-that if the saying 'only the strong survive in the world' and 'this world has no place for the weak' then maybe I had a chance to live!" _

Eren's voice grew to the point of pleading desperation, voice cracking.

"I pray to god he hears you," Rivaille hummed, voice breaking. "Drive until you loose the road, or break the one you follow."

"_Living is for the strong, right? That's what I had to be! Fierce, strong, until no one would call me a monster anymore!" _

"Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness," Rivaille choked out, clenching himself even tighter.

"…_.I was a fool. A goddamn fool." _Eren laughed slightly. _"And I loved it." _

"Some sort of window to your right, she goes left and you go right-between the lines, fear of blame-" Rivaille repeated over and over, rocking back and forth like a child.

"_Blame. Hatred. The seven sins of Pandora's mystical box, I guess. But even that myth itself is a foolish mirror, something to place the blame of humanity's emotions on. There was no box. It's only ourselves." _

"And he beings to raise his voice, lower yours, give him one last choice." Rivaille trembled, voice half a sob, so alone in the room, alone in the apartment, alone in the world.

"…_.I hated myself. More than anything, more than the people who bullied me-I hated myself for letting that happen, for letting myself be caught weak. Redeeming myself as 'strong' helped, I guess." _

"I would've stayed up with you all night, had I known-how to save a life.*" Rivaille couldn't help his lips from trembling.

The shrill scream of his phone cut through the living silence, and Rivaille hastily hit pause on the stereo and looked at the caller ID

**Eren Jaegar **

"Hello?"

"_Rivaille! So, I found this poetry writing class, and I was wondering-Rivaille?" _

The man didn't reply.

"_Rivaille? Are you okay? Rivaille?" _

Hearing a Eren that was still alive, and hearing an Eren who was already _past dead_-how could he not have known that they were so different?

"_Rivaille? Are you crying? Are you okay?" _

Was he crying? Numbly, he put a hand to his cheek to find wetness-_when had he started crying? _

"Poetry writing class? When?"

"…_." _Even Eren's silence sounded skeptical. _"It's at four p.m, but you have to bring a poem." _

"Ah." Rivaille's voice cut off short. "Okay. I'll…do my best."

"_Mikasa sorted out the thing with the hospital. I can stay home now." _Eren's voice was enthusiastic, maybe a little too so.

_How much are you hating yourself? How can you be alone in that apartment? _

"Actually, brat." Rivaille found himself saying. "Come over now. We can write poems together."

"_Really?!" _Eren voice was gleeful. _"No peeking at mine, though, kay?" _

"Who would want to peek at your poems?" Rivaille snorted and rolled his eyes, hanging up.

_Poems…Poems….poems.. _

When Eren came over, he was already holding leafs of notebook paper and pencils, eyes shining bright in anticipation.

He shooed Rivaille to his bedroom while he got the stereo room-Rivaille had put the tapes away-and put the radio on, humming while lying on the floor and scribbling words.

How to save a life came on, and Eren looked startled, but then started singing along softly.

"He will do one of two things-he will admit to everything, or he'll just say he's not the same, and you'll begin to wonder why you came,"

"Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend, somewhere along the bitterness, and I who I stayed up, with you all night, had I known how to save a life."

Rivaille just sat in his bedroom, pencil posed over a sheet of blank paper. He started writing.

_The dull public ruckus of the afternoon train filled the gaps between us…._

When they reached the poetry class, there were only two other people there, and Rivaille and Eren were the youngest ones. The senior man stood up and recited a poem about _hope _and _love _and Rivaille hoped desperately that Eren would love life again.

The senior lady stood up and entwined a poem about joy and hope-family as well.

And Rivaille hoped that Eren would find a joy with a family, and he waited, with his heart pounding in his throat, as Eren stood up to recite his poem.

.

_it wasn't snowing yet, but they'd told us it would._

_probably i said something infantile, about how_

_i could smell it, the frostiness of snowflakes in the_

_air, because you smiled that knowing smile of yours, _

_like you were an adult and i was a child and you _

_didn't have the heart to take my innocence away._

And Rivaille could do, sitting there in the hardback folding chair, was think-Eren? I can't tell who you are, anymore.

_that look always made my heart smile, sadly, and_

_it also drove me up a wall, partly because it made _

_me want to hug you close and pity you the_

_burden of assumed moral superiority, and whisper_

_that you, too were a child. but mostly because you_

_were right— i was a child, and i hated being_

_wrong, and i clung to my naiveté while you, you_

_had already had the good sense to push it away._

_it followed you around with sad puppy eyes, but _

_you knew it and you kept it at arm's length. _

_you brave, brave soul._

Eren shook his head slightly and smiled, the expression sharp and painful.

_when it did start to snow i wasn't surprised. you _

_were, i think. you didn't say anything. we were in_

_a deserted school hallway, listening, removed_

_from the other kids' cries of delight. we were_

_delighted too, but the others wanted to run home_

_from school early, and we knew the definition_

_of home better than they. i can speak only for_

_myself but it seemed we both wanted only to stay_

_forever side by side, tucked away in our corner,_

_me reveling in the softness of love and friendship_

_and winter, you trying to be there with me but having_

_trouble leaving your mind, where that sad-eyed_

_puppy snapped at your heels. _

_but you held your own._

Rivaille didn't think that he even knew what words were coming out of Eren's mouth-those words, so beautiful in context and words-how could somebody've written something like this?

_and slowly, we built up moments like this one._

_we wallowed in each other and in the coziness_

_of cloudy days. we read good poetry and _

_heard good music and took photographs as we_

_discussed life from our softer world._

_or at least mine was._

_there were moments of such pure white happiness_

_that they came full circle to being sad again,_

_simply because i knew i would never be that_

_happy again, and i was not wrong. and we had_

_sad moments, too, never ever think i am not _

_happy to be sad with you._

Happy to be sad with you? Yes, I suppose that's it. Rivaille inwardly infirmed.

_and slowly, too, your innocence knew its_

_defeat, and sat obediently at your feet, _

_and we shared things. i learned of your life_

_and the suffering you carry with you every day,_

_for yourself and for so incredibly many others._

_but i was a child, and a weak one at that, and_

_G-d knew i was not as strong as you so He_

_gave me no great suffering to speak of, to _

_share with you. no way to reciprocate the_

_vulnerability you gave, and that in_

_itself was suffering for me. _

But no one was ever suffering-

_i regret that i was not good at saying things._

_i couldn't share them, but i was not strong_

_enough to deal with them myself, so that while_

_you had to be your own adult and push childhood_

_away, i clung hopelessly to mine as, bit by bit,_

_i discovered who i was and watched it slip_

_from the grasp of my small hands._

Eren, you were always alone, weren't you?

_among the plethora of reasons i can give for _

_bitterly hating the sun, one of them is the_

_way it slanted through the window and lit_

_up your eyes and swilled particles around _

_your face like fairy dust on the day you reached_

_out and pulled my lanyard over your own neck._

_look, you said, content. almost proud. _

_i'm wearing a bit of you around my _

_neck, and you wove it through your_

_sunlit fingers, eyes bright. you tugged on it,_

_lightly. that's what love does, it strangles_

_you. yet we all want it._

No, not like a noose, right?

_and i, i was a fool, a childish fool,_

_and i gasped at the way that word sounded, _

_so harsh in such beautiful sunlight on such_

_a soft face. but i don't want to strangle_

_you. i said that. thoughtlessly, _

_instinctively. i regret it every day. in that regard,_

_you gave me the strength to grow up and deal_

_with suffering of my own, albeit of a smaller_

_scale— you are an incredibly strong person._

No, I'm not.

_vulnerability is weakness, i thought. but_

_it is strength, it is love. it is terrifying. when your_

_ache tugged and tugged at you, tore you from_

_reality, or brought you closed to it, it slipped its_

_finger into that lanyard knot. loosened it. how _

_easily (or maybe not that easily at all) i could have_

_reached out right then, as you had when first you_

_pulled the sun-soaked string over your head, and_

_tightened it. tightened us. been a friend._

_loved louder._

No-I would never do that. You know me.

_you were too strong to cry outside, and i tried so_

_hard, too hard, to suppress the instinct that told me_

_you needed to be hugged, cradled, held not by an_

_adult nor by a child but by a friend. i thought what_

_if that's not me? and i didn't tug the knot for fear of_

_pulling it apart altogether. if you run. when you run,_

_i know that two grown dogs (mine and yours. always)_

_will follow after you, blocked _

_from the sun by your receding shadow.*_

Eren sat back down, and there was a moment of silence, before the man and woman started clapping. Rivaille clapped too, numbly. When did Eren become such a good poet?

"Now, Rivaille, it's your turn!" He could detect a small hint of forcefulness in Eren's tone, but got up anyway, sighing as he ruffled his paper.

_The dull public ruckus of the afternoon train filled the gaps between us._

_We could have been part of it,_

_Drowned so deep in a conversation we could gladly call our own._

_But our past selves have already taken invisible_

_B_

_R_

_O_

_K_

_E_

_N_

_Steps away from each other._

_And tucked ourselves in the tight pockets of this companionable silence_

_As dangerous as the trigger handled by my emotions,_

_A gift for your forehead._

_I will shove all my pain into your being_

_And watch my reflection crumble to his knees with a familiar cry of agony._

_Mauled into frayed flesh in a crimson rose bush _

_That we had woven friendship wraths from._

_And yet, my rasp throat still delivered smoothly._

"_How are you today?"_

And as Rivaille read it, he looked at Eren, to see that the boy was emotionless. Wasn't that _his _job?

_Your usually anticipative eyes_

_Watched the scenery outside,_

_Disappearing just as fast as it came._

_Did you think of the first day of school?_

_When we first approached with awkward greetings?_

_And from a wave and a smile_

_You start to attach them with questions_

_Questions that you should be asking me now_

_Things like_

"_Do you think we will end up in the same sec 3 class?"_

"_Do you want to go to ORA with me?"_

"_Can you save your game? We already hardly bond in class."_

"_Are you even listening?"_

_I was._

_I answered every last one,_

_From the beginning when we stepped into homeroom._

_Even the ones you've never even asked me._

_But now that I come running to you with my stained envelope_

_Are you still there at your seat?_

_To tell me _

"_You know what you need? A good cup of frozen yogurt." _

Eren was always there for him-it was his turn to repay the deed.

_Now every glance that met_

_Will be snapped apart like a crisp twig._

_Every walk down the corridor past each other,_

_Will be like two freshmen models on their first runway._

_Every move, breath, laughter,_

_I will always be aware._

_Perhaps because your voice_

_Will always make up for your height in the crowd,_

_Audible from the opposite side of the hall._

_And its only until I let the quietness sink in,_

_When I have decided to treasure listening to the way you delivered my name,_

_Leaving your loud mouth like some exotic font. _

_That till today I still cannot decipher._

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't know. I'm so sorry, for everything. I really am. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry oh god I'm so sorry

_What was my height in your crowd?_

_164cm tall with probably less than half an inch, I guess._

_You never noticed how my eyes would wander unconsciously._

_Just to wonder_

_If you still remember I existed,_

_Somewhere in the pages of your scrapbook,_

_In the crowd,_

_Still searching, listening attentively._

Did Eren still remember him anymore? Now?

_Do you understand now?_

_We are standing at the extreme ends of Newton's pendulum_

_Spiked from the illness of our broken bonds._

_And I would swing an end so hard I would skewer you _

_And then the pain will come_

_Flying back_

_Stabbing me just as gruesomely._

_But it's so much better _

_Than disobeying the laws of reciprocation. _

_My friend, its unfair to be the only one._

_Why not requite this one heaven of a pain?_

Don't be alone. I can be with you. Please. Let me share your pain.

_People have pet the conflicted pain like dust off me,_

_And ignore the bruises that I have willingly punched myself upon._

_They taught me_

_That the heart is a 2-room residence._

_Happiness_

_Sadness_

_And if you are too happy_

_Don't celebrate too loudly_

_Because you'll wake the neighbor. _

Rivaille would always complain about that.

_But could it really be helped?_

_This 1-year worth of what you have given me_

_You have left 2 party animals as clueless tenants._

_Did you understand?_

_The fact that no matter what silly things we've done,_

_You will always be welcomed home._

_And we would continue to drink _

_Till we are tipsy enough_

_To walk on the edge of the bridge we have built,_

_And fall into the hungry rivers_

_Into the places darker than black_

_Drowning the air out of our lungs._

_But what reason should I be scared,_

_When you have always been the best swimmer I've ever known?_

_Forever a winner to me, _

_No matter how many competitions you have paddled out of the pool in disappointment._

_It has always been you,_

_Who would slip over a note to my table,_

_My hair spilling over its surface in defeat._

_Telling me that everything's ok._

_It's you_

_Who understood that I was more of a listening person._

_Your missing piece to fit your outspoken personality._

_You,_

_The one who could even challenge me to a dance-off just to have the loser ask for the ketchup._

_You,_

_Who could go on forever about someone you obviously like,_

_But only say you 'don't stand a chance'. _

_I_

_The diplomatic one who would arrange you,_

_Like files in an office drawer. _

_You_

_The one who tried to hold us together till the end._

_I,_

_Who failed to treasure your efforts, and share this burden._

All Eren's attempts at telling him-he'd ignored them all, hadn't he?

_And now that you've turned down the volume,_

_And walked out of the door without a goodbye_

_How am I supposed to handle the next morning, when being sober is an absolute nightmare?_

_Left alone to wonder what I have done _

_While we're drunk, carefree and _

_Crumbling at the seams._

Rivaille never wanted to think again.

_My dearest friend,_

_Have I ever told you,_

_How the number 1 _

_Has always been our own funny little number?_

_Now if you just take ONE step closer…_

_Yes, I promise this time I'll keep my earphones away._

_I would point at the signboard above the door_

_And muse over how your stop,_

_Is ONE stop before mine._

_How your birthday,_

_ONE day after mine._

_Yeah… just like how we are ONE world apart in personality._

_Isn't that why we became like this?_

_SHUT UP I KNOW I'M A TERRIBLE CONVERSATION HOLDER._

_I CAN NEVER PUT MY WORDS INTO THE APPROPRIATE CONTEXT._

_**But you knew that. **_

_You knew._

_Now go ahead._

_Laugh._

_Like how you always do, with that wide grin that reflected nothing but forgiveness, _

_Stripped down to reveal absolutely no grudges. _

_Because I deserve it, don't I?_

_Because it was my fault,_

_I was the one, who willingly caused this silent war,_

_Fraying this thread that I mistook for a hiker's rope._

_There can only be ONE survivor in this meaningless game._

_Scold me,_

_Because there was never such a rule. _

_I have decided who would be standing alone, _

_Long ago._

_The loser,_

_The flower that will never find its way back from its ashes._

_A._

_B_

_R_

_O_

_K_

_E_

_N._

_M_

_E..*_

There was a moment of silence, and Rivaille looked towards Eren for a reaction.

_The boy was still emotionless, _showing no reaction.

It was like that time in the hospital-he'd felt like he was talking with a corpse.

_Have my words reached you at all? _

* * *

**These don't Belong to Me-**

1* How to save a life-The Fray

2* On Innocence Already Lost

3* Which to break, Bones or Bonds?

~X~  
Please review!

K.K


	6. Chapter 6

"…**When you were alive, you too, walked the earth with double vision-**

**a hell before you, **

**a paradise you imagined-**

**of the two, which was easier to believe in?" –The Tower Varations (number 7) James Armstrong **

The next morning, Rivaille found his pillow covered in sweat; from turning and tossing all night. _A dizzying cruel dream_, he thought, covering his head with his hands and gasping.

"_Corporal! You promised!" _The screaming, hysterical voice of a young boy, maybe fifteen-

"_We were going to see the ocean together, right? Corporal! Rivaille!" _Desperate and pleading, why did that voice sound so familiar?

"_Live! Live on! Live for me! Breathe! Please-" _The voice broke halfway, and Rivaille couldn't hear anymore, couldn't see anymore, couldn't _feel _anymore.

Who was that?

Today was the last day of the weekend; Rivaille mused, sitting at the breakfast place right around the corner of his apartment.

"_Rivaille! We should get an apartment together!" Eren said, eyes bright as he tugged his arm. _

"_We could live together, split the rent-I would keep my space clean too, I promise!" He said to Rivaille's skeptical look. _

Why did he say no? What was the reason? Rivaille groaned and put his head in his hands; if he had agreed to Eren's request, what would've happened?

The tinkling of the door alerted Rivaille to someone else's presence, and he felt a soft arm on his shoulder, a breath of perfume. _Petra. _

"….Rivaille?"

He turned away slightly, not enough so that she would be offended, and enough to tell her that he really just wanted to 'be alone.'

"…Hanji said that…Eren was missing the night you took him to dinner-"

"Goddammit, woman, I took him out of the hospital!" Judging by Petra's backwards flinch and hasty retreat, he had been harsher than he expected.

"…Oh." She bit her lip and looked down, involuntarily tucking her hair behind her ear. And Rivaille wondered-not for the first time-why all women did that, why no women would put their mascara on with a closed mouth.

Was it that hard?

"Do you want to…walk with me?"

Rivaille gave an noncommittal shrug. "Sure, why not?"

Petra smiled slightly, her eyes lighting up as she tugged on his arm, an action that had always been done by Eren. And Rivaille wondered if he could grow to love her-possibly, because what he had with Eren would always totter along the blurred lines of friendship, rivals, and _lovers._

If on impulse, he gave a soft kiss to Petra's forehead, avoiding her lips entirely.

She didn't say anything about that, only leading him forward. Rivaille hastily deposited some bills for his breakfast fee and followed the girl out the door, wrapping his new gray scarf tighter around his neck and inhaling the cashmere scent and wondering how it would smell if Eren had worn it.

~X~

Eren lay on his bed, arching his back off the mattress and wanting to get up, because he really needed to go to the bathroom, but for some reason, didn't want to at the same time.

A notepad lay on his bed, flipped open to the third or fourth page, black smudges of charcoal and graphite scribbled on it. His sketchbook sat at the end of his bed, and Eren reached for it in wonder, eyes soaking up the white pages, marveling at how no dirt seemed to be on it at all.

He grabbed his pen on impulse, fully intending to draw a line in it, but as soon as his trembling pen was about to touch the paper, he flung the pen away into some far off corner and slammed the sketchbook shut, curling in a ball and hyperventilating in sharp, shallow breaths.

Why was he crying? He wasn't feeling _sad _or _lonely_-maybe just a little. But sinking to this level of pathetique that he broke down at a single piece of _paper_-was it able to get worse?

Eren stumbled out of his bed, going to his kitchen sink and forcefully jerking the tap open, splashing blissfully cool, stinging water on his face and feeling the scars on his arm stretch. His breathing calmed down a bit, and as he was toweling his face, he spotted his kitchen knife sitting on the counter, and he paused.

_It would be so easy. _

No, it would be messy. And you know how much Rivaille hates messes.

_So what? It's not like you can hurt him any more-oh, wait. I take that back. Every second that you're living, you hurt him even more, each. Fucking. Time. Monster. You're worse than the titans. _

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Eren screamed, clutching his towel even tighter to his neck.

_Ah-look. You're strangling yourself right now! Come on, Eren. __**Take the knife. **__No one's here to stop you. _

"It was an accident! A pure accident!"

_Is that why you planned it when Rivaille arranged a movie…date? You couldn't bear to face it, did you? He'll never love you. He's above your level. Pathetic germ-you can't do anything!_

"I can-I can!"

_Ah, let me correct myself. __**You'll never be the best at anything. Never, ever, ever. There will always be someone better than you. **_

_Take the knife. _

_All responsibilities will be gone. _

_Eren, I'm trying to help you, can't you see?_

_What is life, but a temporary stop? After death, you could have anything!_

"Then why do humans hang on to living so much?" Eren choked, wiping mindlessly at his nose. "Why?"

_They don't know what's after death. There's no way of communicating after death, you know that. _

Splintering glass, a spiraling car-a high pitched scream that went on and on and on-

_Your mother died. __**You should've died instead, coward. **_

Eren started choking on his own breath, gasping and pounding his chest-wishing that there was _something,_ anything, to help, but instead-

**EVERYTHING'S YOU FAULT AND YOU KNOW THAT SO WHY DON'T YOU DIE NOW YOU'RE DOING THIS JUST FOR FILTHY ATTENTION NO ONE WILL LOVE YOU AT ALL EVER YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF-**

The doorbell rang.

Eren spun around, half-hoping despite himself. He fumbled for the chain and wrenched it open, to see Armin standing on the step, a half-smile on his face, and breakfast in his hand.

"Do you want to go to the art store?"

Eren gaped at him for a moment. "A-Armin…"

"Yeah?" There was a honk and the boy looked back. "Jean's in the car. I know you haven't been to the art store in a long time-" He was looking at Eren again. "You love it there, right?"

_I had always loved drawing, _

"Y-Yeah."

_Because it would represent something else, something that wasn't_ **me.**

"Just…let me get dressed, okay?"

~X~

Rivaille bit off the top of his popsicle in irritation, and Petra looked at him in surprise. "Rivaille?"

"I…" There was a sign ahead, a familiar one that he was always almost dragged into. "Let's go in here." He instinctively said, pointing to it.

Petra looked at him in disbelief, then shrugged and nodded. "Sure, why not?"

The door creaked as he opened it, and Rivaille instinctively wiped his hand on his pants after touching the dust on there. Petra followed, sneezing slightly.

"Welcome!" The man at the counter cheerfully said, waving at Rivaille. "Rivaille, right?"

"You remember?" Rivaille blinked.

"Yeah, you're the kid that Eren always talks about, right?"

"A-ah." Rivaille nodded in affirmation, fighting down the lump in his throat. The man looked past him to see Petra. "She's cute-your girlfriend?"

"What?" Rivaille turned, he had forgotten that Petra was there. "Yeah, I suppose."

Petra huffed in parodic humor and playfully punched him in the arm. "I suppose?"

The man laughed at them. "By the way, I'm Mike. Nice to meet you."

Rivaille took his hand for politeness, shaking it. "You too."

The doorbell jingled and an enthusiastic voice came in. "Mike, guess what? I-"

It was Eren. Rivaille and Eren stared at each other for a moment, then Rivaille was the first one to turn away, which was strange, because it would always be Eren who would 'cower' under his glare of death. But now, staring into those dead pupils; Rivaille could do nothing but look away.

"Hello, Rivaille." Eren smiled again, lunging forward to capture Rivaille in a hug. "I saw you yesterday!"

"yeah, yeah." Rivaille rolled his eyes and pushed Eren off of him just as Petra said, "Hello, Eren."

Eren looked at her for a moment, tilting his head slightly. "Yeah."

You could cut the tension with a knife, Rivaille thought, pushing past the two of them and going to the clay section. Eren followed him and the door jingled again, and Armin called out-"Eren?"

"I'm in the back!" Eren yelled back; Rivaille winced at the noise. "keep it down!"

Eren hastily said an apology, smiling. "I'm going to go to the paint section, okay?"

Rivaille hummed in affirmation and reached up to get a scalpel. Eren stared at that for a moment, then shook his head and went away,

Running up the stone stairs behind the building,

Climing up and up and up over and over again, gasping in the high altitude, hands gripping the cold metal bars again, tightly until bones were showing-

~X~

**Eren's POV **

_You said it was adorable_

_The way my hair curled _

_around the hollows of my neck_

_Brushing across my skin_

_like a _

_ e_

_._

_You said my looks could shatter glass,_

_that my repugnant features _

_would SURELY guarantee a life of solitude_

_You loved to point out my flaws_

_And how my laugh was too late_

_breathing too loud_

_walking too fast_

**I don't blame you, though.**

.

_The shallow scars on my wrists _

_were alluring to you_

_you encouraged me to make more_

_and I loved the kiss of cold metal just a little too much_

_and_

_you _

_loved_

_that_

_I _

_loved_

_it._

_._

_You said you understood me_

_my thoughts were dark and scattered _

_I wasn't always able to share them with you_

_But I didn't need to _

_you already_

_" d"_

If there were two Erens, one for all the 'good' and one for the 'bad', wouldn't that solve everything? Take out all the flaws of myself and insert it in a wastebin-but then there would probably be nothing left, anyway.

_my dark companion_

_the only one I ever trusted_

_We fought our demons together_

_Dragging the other to hell as well_

_._

_You wasted no time in telling me _

_what a waste I was_

_of skin_

_of space_

_and I wasted no time i you_

Because you were right anyway, and I had already given up, too tired for fighting.

_You would hold me in your arms _

_and whisper bittersweet nothings_

_compliments with a hard slap attached_

_convincing me I was far more flawed than I had originally thought. _

You opened my eyes, I guess.

_We fought like rabid wolves_

_growling, _

_hissing,_

_howling,_

_circling,_

_nipping at my ankles, _

_you'd force me t l._

.

_tearing and ripping apart flesh _

_with words_

_and my feeble palms _

_left angry red marks on your chest and face_

_but my struggle only made you more eager_

.

_Every tear that fell from my face_

_gave you life_

_every sob that came from my throat_

_gave you a voice_

_you could not stand alone_

_you said _

Living was ironic there, I guess. More like-"I cannot die without you by my side." Is that love?

_You said I didn't understand you_

_that I could never comprehend the torment YOU _

_were experiencing_

_I was FAR too dull to see._

An artist.

_It wasn't until I realized_

_I didn't need to play your childish games_

_I didn't need you_

_or your "passionate, intense" heart._

I had hoped, for a while.

_Once I stopped hitting back_

_your blows became harder_

Giving up.

_Not worthy of love._

Useless.

_Not worthy of life._

Filthy.

_Not worthy of existence. _

No one wants you here!

_And I believed you._

_I trusted you._

_._

_ t,_

_you said._

_Peering down at the street far below us_

_._

_You said to._

_._

_The height was dizzying_

_._

_"Jump."* _

"Eren!"

~X~

**Rivaille's POV**

just addicted to lovelessness,

i guess,

addicted to the feeling of something that could be

a distant cousin of loss,

but can't be loss when it wasn't there to begin with.

a cousin of loss and brother of bereavement,

a lexiconical gap

in the english maw,

a space where the definition slipped out

but the word never grew in.

a gap where a word should be,

a word meaning missing something you never had,

losing something that was never yours,

grieving for something that never looked your way

or graced you with its pain.

insomnia of the soul,

unable or unwilling to droop into the catatonic stupor

of love,

until my eyes ache with open,

and my heart aches with empty

and just beautiful aches and pains,

like stiff joints filled with sterling silver

or arthritic necklace clasps.

my tongue is tin because the argentine

is in my hands,

silver in the space between the carpals,

oozing precious metals

onto the page.

writing in second-best so that it'll stay.

writing second-rate love letters

and pretending they're real,

like the words i moan mean something other than

hello

i'm lonely

who are you?

like i'm not the girl who cried love

because the village had already learned

that wolves are lies,

and vice versa.

because faking it has always been my favorite pastime.

i'll write love poems forever,

keep feeding my addiction for as long as it stays,

let my loveless track marks bloom cantankerous sores

on my ribs.

while i'm young

i'll write poems of arthritis and weakness

and death,

because oh now i am immortal

invulnerable and omnipotent,

but when my bones are brittle and my flesh is loose

and my spine makes me bow to the earth,

my poems will be of life and strength

and god

because darkness is only beautiful when it isn't

an imminent looming

future.

when i know i may die tomorrow,

i will write of bluejays

and of a love that never found me,

though it knocked on all the doors and called all the numbers,

waited on my porch while i hid in the closet,

nursing my ache

trying to fill a lexiconical gap

with bukowski

and insomnia.

supersaturated with emptiness

because all the words in the dictionary

can't make up for the one that's missing.

it changed the locks when it came,

shutting me out of my skull,

taking residence in my chest

and growing larger with each slow breath.

every huff of oxygen fed my

resident,

every injection of

late nights spent just writing,

every pill popped -

the lies that went down better

if i said them with a gulp of gin.

so my lovelessness cracked my ribs as it grew,

replaced my marrow with sterling silver

and i watched it happen like

a glacier devouring a desert

because i knew i would never survive loving something.

deserts were never made to run bounteous

with water.

just addicted to lovelessness,

i guess.

addicted to silver joints

and words that don't exist.*

* * *

1*-For my Big Brother, Love always, Sissy

2.*Lexiconal Gap

My bunny is sick…QAQ


End file.
